


the salt and the soar

by hidley



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Seagulls - Freeform, Trans Snusmumriken | Snufkin, always comfort, menstrual cramps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidley/pseuds/hidley
Summary: At last he managed to roll himself onto his hands and knees, but lost all care in a moment and flumped back down again on his belly, looking down over the cliff edge. The birds circled around one another below, and he watched them in lazy fascination for a while before he realised they were fighting.——Moomin finds Snufkin tucked into a crevice on the cliffs.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	the salt and the soar

“So _this_ is where you’ve been.”

Snufkin hummed, his eyes closed. He felt Moomin settle down some ways away along the cliff edge, large body sheltering him from the cold wind. 

“Awfully tricky place for a nap,” the moomin joked, sounding rather pleased with himself. 

Another time Snufkin might have nurtured that confidence, but today he could only hum again in vague acknowledgement. 

Moomin fell silent then, and their shared quilt of quiet sank into Snufkin’s very bones. His chest rumbled. 

The sea below them chattered and gently crashed against the cliff and the air was so thick with salt they’d surely block their noses with it should they breathe too deeply. 

He kept a quarter of his attention on the murky swell within him, a quarter rested upon Moomintroll’s soft, muddy fur and the rest high in the clear sky with the gulls and kittiwakes, riding the southern winds and crying out to one another. 

He fancied that Moomin could often feel that awareness. There was something in his expression whenever Snufkin’s mind would settle upon him, like he could feel the mumrik’s attention like a paw on his shoulder. The warmth he felt in return was like pressing his ear to a slow beating chest, and arms enveloping him such that he did not feel it itch his skin. 

It was the kind of embrace he knew he could sit still in forever, deep down but rising with every passing summer; an ache that had threatened so long to crest, yet when the afternoon passed, his fire had been put out, and he’d led the moomintroll by the paw to sleep, it barely made any fuss at all. Just gently popped, and coated all his insides. His fearful shakes subsided, distracted wandering settling and Moomin developed that wonderful look in his eye, like he was at last privy to a particularly magnificent secret. 

He felt the wind whistle back into his ears, and they twitched. “I’ll leave you be,” Moomintroll murmured, and shifted to leave. 

Snufkin pushed out a loud, unhappy whine, flushing but encouraged by the troll’s subsequent stillness.

“No? You want me to stay?” 

An affirmative. 

“Snufkin—“ and oh how a creature could melt hearing the laugh in a moomintroll’s growl. “At least give me a yes or no.” 

Snufkin sighed heavily through his nose and, with effort, pet the ground next to him with a limp paw. When this triggered no further movement he let out another furious whine, petting the ground again and squinting his eyes open at last. 

Moomintroll was looking down at him like he was watching the woodies perform a play, eyes creased and snout low and tilted. His ears flicked when he met Snufkin’s eyes, but only relaxed further into his expression, as he was often want to do since he was permitted to adore Snufkin openly.

A wave of distress passed through Snufkin’s body and he let it show on his face. Moomin frowned, cooing softly and approaching at last, careful not to touch but getting close enough for his body to once again block out some of the cold sea air.

Exhausted, Snufkin let his eyes fall shut again, hoping the message had been successfully understood. It appeared to be the case as Moomin didn’t try to leave again, just stood and rested his eyes on the horizon. 

Snufkin sighed contentedly and drew himself back in. It was such a peculiar kind of pain. Most things could be worked through; he could collect wood, prepare dinner, even follow Moomin around with nay a hint that he was injured, but this pain had demands. The ache curled like a pine marten below his belly and snored there, pulsing and twisting at strange intervals, at times so fervently he couldn’t keep down pained little gasps. 

And yet, somehow it was a welcome burden. He could feel it coming a mile off and in the week preceding he wandered about his camp in quiet anticipation. After all, the quicker it arrived, the quicker it would leave again. Whether or not it came also with a sense of vulnerability, and plucked at some dormant instinct to nest up somewhere and care for himself in a way he rarely bothered to do, and whether or not he might perhaps enjoy that a touch, was irrelevant. 

And, as always, a kind and attentive moomintroll tended to sweeten the deal. 

A particularly nasty contraction had him convulse a little, and he felt a soft paw tangle with his. He accepted it, holding onto Moomin’s thumb with his whole hand. He would never squeeze it as hard as he wanted, but the small contact eased his heart if not much his muscles.

It passed, and Moomin’s paw slipped away again, and Snufkin looked to him with a kind of absent wonder. 

“I love it here,” he explained. “I can smell the sea and the rocks feel good against my back.” 

Moomin hummed, and laughed when Snufkin threw some wet sand at him. It hit him square in the snout and stuck there, and Moomin whipped his head automatically and sent it flying over the side of the cliff. They watched it fall and hoped it wouldn’t hit any of the gulls on the way down.

As it disappeared, the clouds at last parted behind Snufkin’s eyes. The pain lingered but he no longer felt lost to it, and he could sit up properly and put his hat back on his head. It was damp and stiff, consuming him in the heady stink of brine. He breathed in, greedily. 

It took him a few tries to extract himself from the cove he’d wedged himself in. Once, he almost made it before falling back on his rump with a small ‘ooft’, drawing a giggle from his companion, and earning him a stern but unconvincing glare. 

At last he managed to roll himself onto his hands and knees, but lost all care in a moment and flumped back down again on his belly, looking down over the cliff edge. The birds circled around one another below, and he watched them in lazy fascination for a while before he realised they were fighting. Each gull would let out a shriek and dive down toward concealed nests tucked into the cliff face, snapping and biting at the other all the way down before swooping at the last minute to the higher air, before turning and beginning the whole affair over again. Snufkin strained in a sudden passion to see further over the cliff to where the nests lay. He could barely see the little creatures shifting about, beaks tilted upwards and gasping for something to fill them. Their caretakers were thoroughly occupied keeping them safe but who were such small birds to know that? Perhaps they thought their parents were playing a game, or that they had just not cared to notice their hunger. And even if they successfully fought off the danger and returned to their nests, who’s to say they would be received well, after letting their children go so hungry? 

The grief of that welled in Snufkin’s eyes and he shifted back on the cliff, to where Moomin was fretting himself into the rock. He let the troll help him to his feet and turned with every intention of heading back to the valley, but instead dropped like a stone into Moomin’s fur and clung. Moomin murmured into his hair as he held him, swaying them both from side to side. 

The gulls screamed and squawked, at last chasing their intruders away and it fell quiet. Snufkin stomach clenched, but this time it was hollow and he grunted into Moomin’s fur, asking if he would make him some lunch. 

The troll trilled in delight, and they skated back around the cliff face, paw in paw, and tails swaying in the sea breeze. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with period pain in mind but reading it back, it could apply to any other kind of nauseating pain so! Go forth and project however you’d like. 
> 
> This was just a little thing but I liked it a lot. Also gulls don’t act like that but I had neither the resources nor the energy to research marine birds who did so, gulls it is. 
> 
> Side note: kittiwakes are basically tiny gulls and they are lovely. Highly recommend giving them a google


End file.
